Mad Love
by musix4lfe
Summary: This is a story all about how a man became known as the criminal mastermind that terrorizes Gotham. A man who doesn't live by anyone's rules; not even his own. The Joker.
1. Blind Dates Suck

_Ok, so this is my first story ever. I'm writing this because I felt...compelled (?) to do this; also because it was fun! What the whole little series is about is that it's the back story to Gotham's Joker (Jack Napier), and how he came to be known by that name._ _I choose the name Jack Napier because it really is the only known alias of The Joker in the DC comic world._ _So, I hope whom ever reads this is entertained! Oh, and please feel free to give me any constructive criticism. I'd greatly appreciate it. This chapter is basically an intro to the rest of the story, so that's why it's a little short._

_I'll just give a breif story as to why I started writing this. I always love to make up little stories when ever i lesten to music. Lately I've been obsessed with the new movie, The Dark Knight. I started to set up a playlist in my iTunes library of songs I think would match with The Joker. Eventually, I came up with this! So with each chapter, I will list the songs in the playlist that inspired me._

_I do not own anything related to the Batman world._

_**Chapter Playlist: **__"No One Knows Who I am", Jekyll and Hyde_

_"August's Rhapsody", August Rush_

_"Girl", The Beatles_

* * *

"I want you to know that I really do hate you right now." At this very moment my so called friend is sticking little black needles, aka: bobby pins, through my hair, her ears deaf to my cries of pain. She merely rolls her eyes at me and continues sticking me like a voodoo doll.

"I do, Chelsey. I really hate, detest, and LOATHE you!" I try to yank my head away but she grabs my hair and pulls my head back into place, again deaf to my pathetic yelps. Closing my eyes, I try to picture my happy place, which was very difficult to imagine with the constant throbbing of my scalp. "Ow! For Pete's sakes, what in the world are you _doing _to me?!" I open my eyes, hoping to find some remorse in her face, but all I can see is that cheeky smirk of hers. I try to adjust my stiff sitting posture on the hard wooden chair; Lord knows how long I've been in it. Heaving a deep, defeated sigh, I try to focus my attention to something other than Chelsey working on my hair. My eyes slowly lift up from the floor to look at myself in the mirror. Well, she has done a pretty good job with my makeup, I'll give her that. The eye shadow has a nice smoky effect, bringing out the green in my hazel eyes. And the shade on my lips isn't bad either, it contrasts nicely to my pale skin; what is that shade anyways? A neutral reddish, kind of burgundy … oh who cares. Yes, all in all I look nice; that is until you look at my auburn hair. It's naturally curly, and therefore almost impossible to deal with. From what I could tell, Chelsey is trying to put it up into some sort of fancy up-do that would have worked on a girl with sleeker hair, not coarse and frizzy like mine. Girls with straight hair just don't understand how to do deal with people burdened with curly hair like me.

I look back up to Chelsey's reflection in the mirror only to see her looking frustrated at my mass of hair.

"What? What's wrong?" My voice goes up an octave, an annoying habit that happens when I get stressed.

"Maeve, I give up. I have fought the good fight, but I have bitterly lost!" She throws her hands up in the air, pretending to surrender to my follicles.

"No! You can't leave me looking like this!" Again, the high voice.

"I'm sorry, but your hair is just impossible! You just have to deal with it."

"The hell I am! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place! But nooo, you have to set me up on a blind date; and not telling me until two hours before I'm supposed to meet this guy!"

God, do they have medication to control the way you speak? Mental note: Once I brutally murder Chelsey, look into medicine for high, squeaky voices.

"I wanted to surprise you! And besides, you need to get out of this dorm room. You spend most of your days in here locked up doing nothing except reading, or drawing, or watching movies. You need a life; a guy to keep you occupied. Also, I've already told you that you won't be alone tonight; it's a group date! Vinnie and I will be there so the situation will be less awkward."

"Oh, _less_ awkward. Thanks very much." Giving her one last nasty look, I push myself out of the little wooden chair and begin ripping out the bobby pins from my hair, not even bothering to listen to Chelsey's protests. Once they are all out, I ruffle my hair quickly with my fingers and then take a step back to look at the damage.

"You know, Maeve, I think it looks better down like that. Guess we just wasted an hour, huh?" She laughs a little, and I can't help but smile with her even though I am beyond freaking out. When was the last time I had a date, or a boyfriend for that matter? Too long, that's for sure.

"Alright darling, you look gorgeous. And we finished just in time too! It's time to go meet the boys." Before I can try to talk her into letting me stay in the dorm room that night, she grabs my hand and drags me out the door.

While waiting in the dark parking lot by my car for the guys to show up (of course they were late), I am asking Chelsey as much as I could about my date. But she insists on not telling me anything, even his name. She wants me to find out everything for myself, so we'd have things to talk about. Great, now I'm even more on edge because I have no clue what I'm going to be getting myself into. Jerk.

Giving up on finding anything out about my mysterious date, I look up into the night sky, a natural beauty I've always admired. Someday I'd like to be in an area completely absent of any electrical lights, that way I could actually see the full beauty of the night sky. And the moon! Tonight it looks so unreal. It's completely full, and it almost seems so close I could just reach out and grab it out of the crisp night sky. While observing the moon, I see that it is that strange orange color, something I hardly ever see.

Hmmm, maybe it's a good omen for tonight?

My eyes slowly scan the surrounding scenery bathed in the eerie glow of the moon, and I happily notice that I feel much more relaxed. But then suddenly out of the moonlight I see what I've been dreading, yet also slightly anticipating all night. I can make out the silhouettes of two figures walking towards us. The taller I can tell was Vinnie wearing the old jacket he always wears along with a polo shirt, jeans, and sneakers. So nice to see him dress up. And then there he is, walking just behind Vinnie, his face shadowed. I can feel my breathing quicken, my palms grow sweaty. What were they thinking? This guy will never go for someone like me, whoever he is! As they get closer, I can see him more clearly; or at least the details of his clothing. He wears a Navy blue striped sweater, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows followed by his black jeans and a pair of expensive looking black shoes. His wavy dirty blonde hair that just came a few inches above his shoulders is pulled back into a half ponytail. He passes under a street lamp, and I finally get a glimpse at his face. Oh God, he's so handsome! From his strong jaw, defined cheek bones, to his prominent chin; every bit is breath taking. Yes, he truly is the most attractive man I've ever laid eyes on.

I could see Chelsey watching me from the corner of her eyes, a slight smile in place. They men finally make it over to us, Vinnie pulling Chelsey into a tight hug. Releasing her, he waves a hello over to me.

I don't notice, my eyes are glues to my shoes.

With a bit of strain in her tone, Chelsey says, "It's about time you boys made it! We need to get going, or else the place will get packed." Why doesn't Chelsey's voice get squeaky when she's stressed?

Where are we going anyways? Oh yeah, another "surprise" for me to find out.

Vinnie laughs a little and playfully shakes Chelsey. "Chill, we have plenty of time, sweetie! Besides, we need to introduce these two lucky people before we go."

Oh, nice. Way to embarrass me even more, Vinnie.

But then I hear him chuckle slightly, and my eyes instantly zoom to the source.

Before Vinnie can even begin the introductions, my breath-taking date holds out his hand to me, a dazzling wide grin in place. "Hey there, it's nice to meet you. My name's Jack Napier."


	2. Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?

_I just want to thank everyone who has given me those sweet little reviews so far! They're very encouraging. Feel free to leave me any advice you all think is necessary! Oh, and just for the readers sake, these are the ages of my characters in this chapter. Vinnie and Maeve are 22, Chelsey 23, and Jack 24. I'm sure once you read this, you'll understand why I had to add that in there.  
_

_And as everyone already knows, I do not own anything relating to the Batman universe._

_**This Chapter's Playlist: **"With A Little Help From My Friends", The Beatles_

_"Killer Queen", Queen_

_"Do Ya Think I'm Sexy", Rod Stewart_

_And "The Moon And Back" by Savage Garden, as suggested by **Audry Kasm**!_

_(Info about the playlist is in the first chapter.)_

* * *

Before Vinnie can even begin the introductions, my breath-taking date holds out his hand to me, a dazzling wide grin in place. "Hey there, it's nice to meet you. My name's Jack Napier."

I grasp his hand, trying to find my voice.

Wow, his hand's kind of rough, and what a nice strong grip! Hmmm, his hand's really big too. You know what they say…

"Erm, are you going to give me your name or are you just going to hold my hand and stare at me all night, cupcake?"

Crikey, did I just space out like some loony?! Speak, you damn fool, _speak_!

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry! My name's Maeve Collins." And cue the embarrassed reddening of the cheeks.

Before my eyes shoot back down to the ground in embarrassment, I can see Chelsey and Vinnie are staring at me, both with the same expression that seems to be shouting at me, _what the hell?!_  
Yeah, don't worry guys. I already feel like a freaking idiot, but please! Please continue to stare and make it even worse!

Jack laughs lightly, which causes me to look back up at him. His head is slightly tilted with a raised eyebrow and smirk in place. "Well, Space Cadet Maeve. It is a pleasure to meet you."

His smirk breaks into that wide grin of his as he finally lets go of my hand, chuckling to himself the whole time. Is there something funny that I'm missing? Wait, I rephrase: something funny besides me? And what is this "Space Cadet" crap?! That had better not catch on as a nickname. I think I like cupcake better, which was still annoying.

"Ok then…." Vinnie clears his throat, obviously trying to erase the awkwardness hovering through the air. "Now that we got that out of the way, let's get going."

"Which is where, exactly?" I can't believe no one has told me yet.

"Chelsey hasn't told you?" He looks questioningly at her and then continues. "We're going to 'Roy's Bar and Grill.' Sound good?"

Oh, that's it? Well, that was sure anti-climactic. "Uh, sure, I guess. I don't really know why that had to be such a big secret, though. Why are we going there anyways? You guys don't drink."

"I do!" Jack pipes in with a sing-song voice.

"Ok, besides him."

Vinnie begins walking towards his car with the rest of us following. "True, but we're not going there for the drinks—"

"I am!"

"Jack, shut up, man. Like I was saying, we're not going there for the drinks, but for…something else." His eyes get all shifty as he looks at me, then to Chelsey, back to me and in front of him again.

"What do you mean, 'something else'?"

"A strip club?" Jack asks nonchalantly.

"Jack, dude. No!" By now we've reached Vinnie's car, waiting on him as he begins to unlock the doors. "We're going there because…." His voice trails off again as he looks nervously back to Chelsey. Oh no, something's up. Something they know I won't enjoy.

"Just spit it out!"

"Fine, ok! We're going there because it's karaoke night!"

"_WHAT?!_" Jack and I both exclaim this simultaneously, but with different emotions behind our words. Mine are coated with anger and shock. Chelsey and Vinnie both know I hate having to sing in public. But Jack, however; his words are filled with the ecstasy of a five year old on Christmas day.

Before I can begin spewing any profanities at Vinnie and Chelsey, they had already ducked into the now unlocked car for safety and Jack waiting like a happy camper in the back seat. I groan to myself as I open the other back door and climb in next to Jack. Vinnie immediately starts the engine and begins speeding down the road, already in a deep conversation with Chelsey, leaving me with Jack all to myself. Yippee? Sure he's handsome, but so far he's just annoyed the hell out of me.

"So…" he begins after a moment of uncomfortable silence passes between us. "What song do you think you'll sing tonight?"

"I'm not singing."

He stares at me incredulously, like I've just said the most outlandish thing in the whole world. "Why not?!"

"Because. I don't like singing in front of people."

"Why; because you make peoples ears bleed?"

"No! I can sing, I just don't like to in front of people. I always get so nervous and then my voice cracks and then—"

"You make peoples ears bleed. Don't worry, I get it."

"I _can_ sing, I just –"

He waves a hand, dismissing my lame argument. "Blah-bitty, blah, blah, blah. It's all just words until you actually prove it to me otherwise. Just sing tonight and I'll no longer believe that even banshees run away screaming when you open your mouth."

My hand grips my seat belt tightly as I try not to lose my temper. "I'm not singing. End of story."

"Are you really going to be such a poor excuse for a date tonight?"

I can feel my grip on the seatbelt tighten even more. "Are you really going to be such an asshole of a date tonight?"

I try to put as much bite and sting into that as much as possible, but clearly that has no affect on Jack. Instead of getting pissed off like I was, he starts laughing to himself. Laughing!

I spend the rest of the drive over to the restaurant looking out the window at the moon, trying to ignore Jack loudly humming to himself. He's most likely practicing for his big number. After an extremely long twenty minutes, we finally arrive at Roy's. Getting out of the car, I notice that there aren't many other buildings around this place; it's just out in the middle of nowhere. 'Roy's Bar and Grill' doesn't look too promising, either. It's pretty small, the paint faded and peeling in some areas. It has a flickering neon sign standing proudly high above the shady looking establishment. Strangely enough, though, the parking lot is full of cars. The place makes me feel like I really am at a strip club. Evidently, Jack feels the same way. He's just grinning from ear to ear.

"This is a lovely place you've taken me to, guys." The sarcasm seeps through my tone.

"Oh, come on, Maeve! Just give it a chance. Trust me, it's better on the inside." Chelsey encouragingly smiles at me, then takes Vinnie's hand and leads the way inside the door, again leaving me vulnerable to the annoyance known as Jack.

"Shall we, then, my little Space Cadet?" He holds out his arm to me, and waggles an eyebrow. Is that his lame way of trying to be charming? Well, even though I'm still miffed at him, I have to admit that that is pretty cute. Rolling my eyes, I decide to humor him while trying to hide my slight smile. I take his arm and we walk into Roy's together across the crowded gravel parking lot, Jack, of course, resuming his humming.

Alright, I'll admit it; Chelsey was right. The inside is a thousand times better than its shabby exterior. The walls are red brick covered in many modern and eclectic decorations. Black chandeliers hang all around giving the place a classier feel to it. All the furniture is very sleek and upscale looking, the same for the bar in the back corner. And of course, there's the stage all set up to go with tables all crowded around. I can hear soft jazz music being played through the speakers in the ceiling, just adding to the ambiance. Jack spots Chelsey and Vinnie already seated at a booth in the back and leads us over to them. I take a seat in the empty side across from Vinnie and Chelsey with Jack sliding in next to me. Goodness, he was sitting close. I would scoot away, but I'm blocked by the brick wall. Fabulous, I get to hear him breathe and hum all night.

We all make small talk for a short while until our waitress comes to take our drink orders. Vinnie leans in to Chelsey, asking her what she'd like.

"Oh, I don't care. You pick for me."

He faces the waitress and orders a Dr. Pepper for Chelsey and a coke for himself. Then our waitress, Shelly as she cheerfully introduced herself as, asks Jack and me the same thing. He leans in close over to me, clearly mocking Vinnie, his face barely inches from mine.

In a babyish voice, he asks me, "What would you like, schoompsie?"

Despite the uncomfortable closeness, I could not pass up a chance to mock the happy couple in front of us, so I play along.

Using an equally annoying voice, I reply, "Oh, golly, cuddle-cakes. I just don't know! I guess I'd like some sweet tea, if that's alright." I bat my eyes to add some dramatic affect and put on a dopey grin.

Jack taps my nose with his forefinger, making kissy faces as he speaks. "Anything for you, my little Space Cadet!" He turns to the waitress, dropping the baby voice and reverts back to his own.

"I'll have a beer for myself and my schoompsie over there will have a Long Island iced tea." Shelly asks for some identification to make sure we could legally drink, and Jack instantly whips out his i.d. along with mine. When did he swipe that out of my purse?! When has he even been _near _my purse? Wow, what a creeper.

He winks at Shelly as she scampers off to go get our drinks.

"Erm, I really just wanted a regular sweet tea, Jack." I decide I don't want to know how he got my i.d.

"Pish, posh. Vinnie and Chelsey can be no-fun-Nancy's if they want, but I'll be damned if I don't have any fun, myself! And you're my date, so therefore I am responsible for your entertainment."

"So I have to drink in order to have fun?" I ask in disbelief.

"Yes," he states matter-of-factly. "You need to loosen up, darling. Let loose, get wild for a change! Trust me…" Shelly had now already placed our drinks on the table, and Jack slowly slides mine over to me. "…you need this."

I take the drink from Jack, running my finger along the cold tall glass. He is right about me needing to loosen up; I really have been uptight all night. Jack, sensing me giving in to his logic, holds his beer bottle high for a toast. Vinnie, Chelsey and I follow suit.

"To a damn good time!"

"Here, here!" Vinnie cheers and we all then clink our glasses together.

After an hour or so we have finished our meals and are happily chatting with each other. Surprisingly, I have started to warm up to Jack again. Probably from the booze. But no, that's not it. I have barely finished half of my drink, while Jack had ordered two more brewskies for himself over the course of dinner. And even after all that, he doesn't seem all that affected from the drinks; he's just laughing a lot. But what do I know? He could just hide being drunk very well.

We all talk a little bit longer until the jazz music stops playing from the speakers and is replaced by a familiar pop song coming from the stage. Is that a Britney Spears song? Oh no. It's begun.

A tall man starts swaying to the intro of "Oops I Did It Again", and my whole table just bursts out in laughter. We all finally calm down once he gets to the final chorus of the tune, wiping the tears from our eyes. It isn't until I really calm myself down that I notice Jack isn't sitting next to me.

"Hey, guys. Where did Jack go?"

Chelsey looks at the empty space with a confused expression. "I don't know, I never saw him get up!"

My attention is immediately diverted though, once I hear the intro to a song I know and love. I look at Chelsey, her excited expression meeting my own. We had recently gone on a road trip, and this was the first song I had played in her truck to start us off with a bang. I bob my head to the beat of "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy" by Rod Stewart, anxiously waiting to see who'd be singing it. Then suddenly out of the shadows steps out Jack, and he starts to sing.

"_She sits alone waiting for suggestions _

_  
He's so nervous avoiding all her questions _

_  
His lips are dry, her heart is gently pounding _

_  
Don't you just know exactly what they're thinking?"_

My mouth drops to the floor in astonishment; I still can't believe he's singing this song! As he continues to sing, he dances across the stage, winking at a few drunken girls here and there. Then he jumps off the stage and into the crowd, his eyes now glued onto me. He begins to thrust his hips to the beat of the chorus, to add some extra oomph to the lyrics as he walks in my direction.

"_If you want my bod-aaay_

_  
And you think I'm sex-aaay _

_  
Come on sugar, let me know!_

_  
If you really neeeed me _

_  
Just reach out and touch me!_

_  
Come on sugar, tell me so!"_

By now he's reached our table and he grabs my hand, pulling me from my seat. And for some reason, I don't fight back! I actually want to make a fool of myself! Ok, maybe that Long Island iced tea has affected me a little.

He pulls me all the way up to the stage, and we begin dancing to the music, the whole crowd cheering us along; Chelsey and Vinnie being the loudest. When we get to the bridge of the song, which is my favorite part, I grab the microphone Jack is holding and we begin to sing together.

"_His heart's beating like a drum._

_  
'Cause at last he's got his girl home._

_  
Relax baby! Now we are aloooone! Whoo!!"_

The song finishes, and the audience all stand up shouting and cheering for more. I start laughing, feeling a little silly up on the stage now. I look over to Jack, who's grinning his mile-wide smile at me, laughing along with me. Or maybe at me.

"What? What is it?" I ask between laughs.

He takes my hand into his, his smile even wider if possible; and for some reason, I don't seem to mind.

"I got you to sing."


	3. Is it the Wine?

_Whoo, chapter three's finally out! I would like to thank everyone for all of my sweet reviews, they are just brightly colored sprinkles to my otherwise bland life. Also, I'd like to thank my wonderful Beta, Heather. I refused to post this chapter until she FINALLY got a chance to read it and give me her thoughts. _

_Wow, that started to sound like an acceptance speech for the Oscars._

_This chapter's just a tad long, so please try to bear through it all._

_**This Chapters Playlist:**_

_"The Night is Young", Robin Hood: Men in Tights_

_"Elephant Love Melody", Moulin Rouge_

_"Faithfully", Journey_

_"Can't Take Me Eyes Off of You", Frankie Vallie_

_"So Close", Enchanted_

_"The Four Seasons, Concerto No.4 in F, 'L'inverno', Rv 297, I. Allegro Non Molto", Antonio Vivaldi_

_"El Tango de los Assassinos", Mr. and Mrs. Smith_

* * *

It's a funny world we live in, don't you think? Watching the people below, they seem to move so slowly, following an organized system that gets them through the day. I can only imagine what's running through their heads.

Left foot, right foot, left, right, left, right. Stay on the right side of the pavement, watch out for traffic. Did I ever pay those bills; was the dog fed last night? Whatever happened to Lisa on the fifth floor? I hope my wife doesn't know. I wonder what my mother's up to, it's been ages. Was I supposed to pick up the kids from school? These shoes are way too expensive, I can't afford them. How much debt am I in now? I'm so exhausted, when will this day end? I really hate my neighbors. Why am I still working there? Left foot, right foot, left, right, left, right. Stay on the right side of the pavement. Watch out for traffic. Don't forget to breathe.

But in reality, they're not moving slow at all, are they? When you actually get down there in the dirty, vile streets of Gotham, it's all fast paced, hectic, chaotic.

Seems like the same can be said for me. My life, where is it going? When will it start? It seems to stand still, motionless in time; just hovering in the air, waiting for that one trigger. Maybe that's why I stand here at this dusty window all the time, watching the people below me. I'm waiting for that trigger. But taking a closer look at myself, I realized when has my life ever been slow? I'm constantly moving, growing. The years fly right by, slipping through my ever aging fingers. True, I'm only twenty-eight, but that's ancient to a six year old. And that's all I ever am at heart; a restless little six year old. At least, that's what she tells me all the time.

I remember when I was six. I used to love to go and greet the mailman every day, hoping to find a letter addressed just for me! Ah, those simple pleasures in life.

Today I got a letter addressed just for me, but I didn't rush up to greet the mailman for this one. No, not for this one. Nononononono.

I wonder where my trigger is. That one thing that wakes me up out of this eternal sleep; the one thing that slows down the constant whirring of the wheels in my head. I'm still searching, looking, hunting, seeking—

The sound of the front door opening interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to see what the cause was.

Oh, there it is. Looks like it found me.

My trigger.

Just breathe.

* * *

Opening the door to my apartment, it doesn't surprise me to see Jack staring out the window in the living room; he's been doing that a lot lately. He turns to me and gives me a sort of a half smile before turning back to that tiny little window. It doesn't surprise me either that he didn't notice my arms full of groceries and failed to ask if he could help carry some to the kitchen. He never does.

What does surprise me, though, is how long we've been together now. If someone had told me that Jack and I would be in a serious relationship, I would have laughed in their face; even more so if they had said we'd be together for four years now. But here we are! Right after I graduated from college, Jack and I moved into this tiny little apartment in Gotham. Sure, we weren't on the best side of town and our little flat is in poor condition, but hey. It's home.

Living with Jack at first was a little hard. I had to get used to his insane sloppiness and many quirks that I had never noticed before. Things like his constant twitching when he becomes restless, or how he seems to cut off in mid conversation with me and just begins muttering to himself. But I've been able to overlook all of that, and we have lived very happily together. He has recently adapted this new little quirk, though, and I can tell that this is going to be harder to over look. One minute we could be laughing and joking with each other, having a grand ol' time. But if I say something he doesn't agree with, he goes on this horrible angry rampage. When he gets like that, he's inconsolable. I've tried to keep him calm from these random little tantrums, but they've seemed to just get worse and worse. He's really starting to scare me, but do you want to know what frightens me even more? That I still love him and can't even bare the thought of moving out. I must be out of my mind.

I still remember that night we "officially" started dating. It was about two weeks after the infamous "Drunken-Karaoke-Date-Night", as Jack so fondly named it. I had been trying to avoid him at all costs ever since that first date. That night he held my hand on the stage really meant nothing to me, just a friendly gesture, if you will. Jack, however, treated it as if we had just proclaimed our unending love for each other. The very next day he called, and called and called. When my classes got out, he would be there just outside of the classroom. No matter where I went, he was already waiting for me. No matter how hard I tried to get away, I was forced to be around him constantly because he was such good friends with Chelsey and Vinnie.

So, two weeks after the first date, Chelsey invited me out to dinner at this nice little sushi bar in Gotham. Chelsey and I were roommates at a little college on the outskirts of Gotham, so it was always a treat to go into the city. I arrive, and tell the hostess I was meeting a friend, and they promptly lead me to my party. I turn the corner, and who should I find waiting in my designated booth? None other than that creeper, Jack Napier himself. I stay calm as the hostess seats me, and wait until she leaves us alone to start talking.

_I lean across the table, and whisper harshly, "What do you think you're doing here?!" _

"_Aw, my little Space Cadet, I'm happy to see you too." He leans across the table as well, placing his hands next to my clenched fists._

"_Oh, stop it! Seriously, what are you doing here? I'm supposed to be meeting Chelsey, not __**you**__."_

"_You see, that's where you're wrong!"_

_I groan as I understand what he meant. "She set this up, didn't she? She never intended to have dinner with me at all. I'm going to kill her." I say the last part more to myself, but not really caring if Jack hears._

_He snorts in laughter, and begins clapping loudly causing to restaurant to turn and stare at us. "You are correct, madam!" he announces to the whole world. "Someone give this fine young woman the grand prize."_

"_Cut it out!" I hiss as I grab his hands, trying to force him to stop clapping. Of course, this ceases his mock applause immediately._

"_Alright, Jack. Let's behave like adults, ok? Now, I'm going to have dinner with you, but __**only **__because I'd hate to waste a trip to Gotham. Got it?" _

_He smiles widely, and says in between chuckles, "Yes ma'am."_

"_Good." We stare at each other for a moment before I look away quickly. I always get uneasy when I stare into his eyes for too long. When he doesn't say anything after a few minutes, I look back to him only to see that hadn't stopped watching me since I looked away. He's sporting an arrogant smirk with an eyebrow raised._

"_What?"_

_He says nothing, but looks down at the table, then back up to me, his smirk now turning into a grin. I look down to see what he's gesturing at, and gasp slightly. I have been holding his hands this whole time, and tightly, might I add. Instantly I rip my hands away, and begin nervously playing with my hair. Why does he always make me feel so jittery?!_

_All through dinner we have polite conversation, some not so polite thanks to Jack. He pays for both of our bills, which catches me off guard. I didn't think he was capable of being a gentleman. Before I can escape to my car and leave him in the dust, he grabs my arm and leads me into a park across the street._

_It was really late into the night by this time, so walking out in the park might not have been the best decision. We were in Gotham, for crying out loud. Strangely though, with Jack I didn't feel all too worried. We begin asking each other questions; little things like our favorite food or our favorite movies. The more we went on with the little question game, however, the more personal the questions got. Eventually, I get around to asking him about his family, but this only makes him really fidgety and he quickly changes the subject. Once we couldn't think of anymore questions to ask, we simply walk in silence down the cobblestone path, staring straight ahead. _

"_Maeve?"_

_I turn to see that he stopped, and is looking upset about something. "Yes?"_

"_Am I really that repulsive to you?"_

_His words cut me like a knife into my heart. No matter how many times I've said that I couldn't stand him, I have never found him repulsive. "No, of course not." He doesn't look too convinced, so I continue. "As much as I sometimes hate to admit it, you really are…pleasant to be around when you're not goofing off."_

_He halfheartedly smiles and shrugs. "I can't help it when I goof off, it's what I do." His smile fades, and he grows silent once more. "Do you wanna know something, my little Space Cadet?" he asks after a moment._

"_Sure."_

"_That first night I saw you, I didn't think you were real. The way the moonlight bathed you, how you seemed to glide instead of walk…I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing! You looked so perfect, like…like you didn't belong on this planet."_

_I stand there shocked, my mouth slightly agape. I can feel my heart pounding inside my chest, it's a wonder I am the only one who can hear it! Why is he doing this; letting his guard down? The whole time I've known him he rarely ever is serious, he's always joking about something._

_Jack's chocolate brown eyes meet mine for a brief second before turning to the pavement. In that brief second, though, I could almost see into his soul. Insecurity seeped out from his gaze, tinged with just a hint of anger. But there was something underneath all of that I can't recognize, something I am unfamiliar with. _

_That fleeting gaze tugged at my heart-strings, and I wanted nothing more than to comfort him somehow._

_Jack turns away from me slightly, his eyes focused on the ground. "But I guess I'm now finally realizing that I'm the only one who has these feelings, so—"_

"_You're wrong!" I blurt out unexpectedly. All these emotions swirling in my head, they wouldn't let me stay silent any longer. No longer will my heart continue to stay dormant, it needs to feel. _I_need to feel. All of these confusing emotions, only now do they choose to let me understand them._

"_You're wrong. I couldn't take my eyes off you the night we met; I still can't without feeling…flustered. I constantly think about you, always anticipating when I'll get to see you next. When you're not around, my thoughts become all hazy and confused. I begin to think that I can't stand you, and of how much I hate you. It's only when I'm near you does my mind become clear and I realize that what I'm really feeling is the exact opposite of hate." I stop to take a breath of air, and look to see Jack's response._

_Now is his turn to stand shocked in his place, his mouth slightly agape .Unsure, I slowly walk over to him, and nervously take his hand, all the while questioning if I really should be doing this. _

"_Listen, I'm sorry about the way I've behaved; I know I haven't treated you all too kindly. It's only now, for some reason, that I've realized what I've been feeling all along. And it's all just so sudden, I-I don't really know what to do about it." _

_Jack remains glued to his spot, still speechless. What was he thinking; what was running through that head of his? The silence becomes increasingly unbearable._

_I close my eyes, and sigh heavily. "Please say _something,_Jack."_

_And he does, but not with words. He cups my face with his free hand and tells me all that he has been feeling with a kiss. A kiss filled with confusion, fear, sadness, and passion. _

_We separate after what seemed like eternity, his hand playing with some strands of my hair. He chuckles suddenly, and asks me, "Did you seriously just use the word, 'flustered'?"_

* * *

Life used to be so simple, some people say.

Remember the good 'ol days, Jim? Yeah, sure do Hugh. There's nothing better than fond memories of a sweet childhood!

Yeah, what a crock. I don't see myself saying anything like that anytime soon.

Or ever.

I can't recall ever having a fond, memorable day while growing up in that shit -hole of a town. But what am I jabbering about?! I must be crazy! How could I not have loved the sweet, soothing melody of my parents screaming their lungs out at each other right before bedtime? Or how about when the first thing I heard when I woke up was my mother sobbing to herself, yet again. Who wouldn't miss their father telling you that you were a mistake constantly, and who would sometimes threaten you at gunpoint if you got on his nerves. Oh, waitwaitwait! I know a good one! How about the day my father was sent away?! Mommy, while nursing her new split-lip, told me that Daddy went on a little vacation and wouldn't be back for a long time. Little did she know that I saw the strange men take him away, and that he barely put up a fight. He practically skipped away with glee. Sheesh, he must have really have wanted to get away from us! Ha ha ha ha ha!

But where was I? I can't seem to remember…maybe it'll come to me eventually.

Have you ever lifted five-hundred tons? I have, in fact I am right now. This unopened letter in my hand, addressed just for me; who knew that this tiny paper envelope would weigh more than my Granny-Wanda on Thanksgiving Day?!

Ha ha ha ha ha.

I'll be here all night.

Maeve used to laugh at my jokes. That is, when she finally fell for my good looks and witty-charm. Took me about two weeks to finally make that girl mine. But recently, she hasn't found my wise-cracks to be that funny anymore. Hmmm, better work on my material. Note to self: No more jokes about babies in blenders. Heh-heh.

Which reminds me! Did ya hear the one about the—

Nonono, stop it! Focus! Think happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happyyyyy…

"Jack?"

Maeve's voice startles me; I have to shake my head to clear my thoughts. She had once told me that when she was near me, her head would become clearer. If only she knew how much more incredibly true that is for me. Only now, it's getting harder to get out of this constant thick fog.

* * *

"Jack?" Maeve calls out again patiently. She had grown used to him not hearing her the first time.

"What, what do you want?" Jack spoke with a little more bite in his tone than he intended, annoyed at being so suddenly ripped out of his thoughts.

Maeve purses her lips slightly, but decides not to start an argument tonight. Not on this night. "Dinner's all ready. Hurry up and sit down before it starts to get cold."

She moves over to their tiny kitchen table that she had just specially decorated, and takes a seat. A cheap tablecloth covered the plastic table top, along with a few candles, plates, wine glasses and a bottle of Merlot she had just bought from a store when on the way home. On the table lay a bowl of mashed potatoes, peas, and a plate with two cheap steaks. Truly, this was fine dining compared to the usual plastic cups, paper plates, and boxed macaroni. It's Jack's favorite meal.

Jack walks over to the table, sitting in the only other chair they owned across from her. He appraises the luscious meal laid out before him, and smacks his lips greedily.

"Wow, babe. This looks great!"

Maeve smiles appreciatively at Jack, and begins to place food on Jack's plate, then hers. "I'm glad you think so. It certainly wasn't easy to make."

"What, opening a can of peas requires culinary expertise?" Jack shovels food into his grinning mouth, making sure to avoid the glare he was sure to be receiving. After a few mouthfuls of food he finally managed to swallow, Jack takes his full wine glass and empties it quickly down his throat. He refills his glass to the brim, and takes another big swig.

"Well, this is really nice, sweet heart. It's definitely better than the usual…_feast_ we dine upon. What's the occasion?"

Maeve's fork stops mid-travel to her mouth. "Are…are you serious?"

Jack says nothing.

"You've got to be kidding me! I can't believe you forgot what day it is!"

"…recycling day?"

Maeve slams down her fork and pushes herself out of her seat. "You're really something, you know that, Jack? Today just happens to be our four-year anniversary. That ring any bells?!"

"Oh", Jack says meekly, taking another sip of wine. "I guess I just forgot."

"That makes it ok, then?!" Maeve shakes her head in disbelief. "Do you know what I went through to get this food, those plates, that tablecloth, the wine?! I took on a second job just so we could afford it!" she shouts.

Suddenly, Jack tosses the wine glass across the room and shoves himself out of the rickety old chair, causing it to fall to the floor with a loud thud. He rushes over to Maeve and fiercely grabs her shoulders, shaking her as he shouts back at her. "Hey! Don't you go blaming _me_ for our money problems! You know I'm trying my best to find another job."

Maeve could feel her arms going numb from Jack's iron grasp, her eyes growing wide in fear. He tightens his grip even more with his fingernails digging deep into her skin; his voice turning into a low, harsh growl.

"Maybe you should stop wasting what little money we _do_ have on the pointless _shit_ you buy. Make-up, new clothes, dinner plates, _tablecloths_?!" He releases Maeve from his grasp, blood now trickling from five tiny crescent-moon shaped marks on each of her shoulders. He rips the tablecloth off of the table sending everything to the floor with a crash. "We can't afford this God-damn _CRAP_."

Maeve stands rigidly rooted to her spot, helplessly watching the scene unfold. Tears overflow from her eyes, her shoulders slightly stinging. Jack grabs his hair, tugging at it with clenched fists, and slowly lets out a constricted sigh. He looks back up to Maeve, his expression softened and mood abruptly changed. Delicately, he walks over to her and tenderly pulls her into his arms. Once Maeve was in his embrace, she begins sobbing uncontrollably.

"Shhh, shush now", Jack coos while holding her tighter. "It's all right. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry." He begins stroking her hair, resting his head on top of hers. "You just don't understand what I've been going through recently." Maeve lifts her tear-stricken face up to Jack, her brows furrowed together in desperation.

"Then help me to understand!" she pleads. "Tell me what's been going on with you. Recently you've had these intense mood-swings, and I just don't get why. Are…are you depressed, upset? Are you unhappy with me? Please, let me into your world for once; don't endure this burden all on your own!"

Her watery eyes lock onto his tired browns, and slowly he lets go of her. Without a word, his face solemn, he reaches into his back pocket, producing an unopened letter. He hands it to Maeve and walks sluggishly over to his window, resting his head on the glass. She looks it over, her eyes growing wide at what she finds. Confusion engulfs her mind as she stares at the address from where this letter came from, hoping it'll reveal its purpose to her. A thousand questions are all pleading to be asked, but she can only mutter one in a shaky breath.

"Arkham Asylum?"

_Just breathe._


	4. Love Hurts

_Alright, next chapter! I don't have much to say except sorry for the long wait, and thanks to everyone for all the lovely reviews and to those who "favorited" my story. You guys are like a first crush. So, on with the story!_

_P.S. Look for a guest appearance in tonight's performance! A Batman Popsicle to the first one who can guess who it is. Or maybe a Joker toy gun? You get to choose. : )_

_Oh, and one more thing. Just to clear any possible confusion, no, Jack does not have his signature scars yet. You gotta stay tuned for that!_

**_This Chapters Playlist:_**

_"Innuendo", Queen_

_"Antrozous", Batman Begins _

* * *

The stale air seems to hang morosely inside the dark hallway, not even stirring as two figures pass through it. The sound of clicks and clacks from tiny heels echoes against the heavy stone walls as they move down the corridor, followed by the heavy slap of another set of shoes strolling closely behind. These are the only two noises heard as the two make their march down the chilly flooring. Down the passageway, up the stairwell, through an empty lobby and past a set of heavy double doors does the pair not speak, except for the interaction of their shoes. Seemingly having reached the destination, the stout older woman in the crisp institutions uniform knocks quietly on an office door. The figure behind her notes with twitchy eyes the thick gold nameplate on the mahogany door: _Dr. James S. Markinson, Ph.D_. Again the plump nurse knocks on the doctor's door, this time with more volume. But just as before, there is no response. Tutting in annoyance at the tardy physician, she takes out a set of old brass keys linked on a large metal ring. Carefully, she examines each until finding the one she needs, and slides it into the doors keyhole. With one swift motion of her hand, the door loudly unlocks, the noise reverberating down the vacant corridor. Opening the door, she walks inside turning on the lights inside the office, and then motions for the man waiting with an amused expression to enter. Lightly stepping onto the dingy white carpet, he carelessly places himself in a chair in front of the room's great desk. The nurse walks back over to the wooden door, and briefly pauses, her hand gripping the doorknob.

In a voice quite contrary to her statement, she says, "I'm so sorry for this slight delay, sir. The doctor's meeting must have run later than expected. He should be here momentarily, though. Make yourself comfortable; the doctor will be right with you, Mister Napier."

Jack stares straight ahead, as if the nurse had never spoken. Once she shuts the door, locking it on her way out, his eyes roam around the room taking everything in. He drums his fingers on the arm rest, taps his foot repeatedly, lets out loud sighs, but nothing seems to make the good doctor appear any quicker or relieve him of his boredom. After a while, he slouches deep into his chair and props his feet on top of the expensive desk, folds his arms, closes his eyes, and begins to hum to himself.

* * *

_"Jack, you have to go."_

_  
"Just shut up, Maeve. I don't have to do diddly-squat." Jack heatedly throws himself down onto their couch and slumps deep into the cushions. Maeve walks behind the couch and places a comforting hand on Jacks shoulder, which he instantly recoils from._

_  
"Please, Jack. _Please _don't be like this today." Maeve places her fingers on each of her temples, trying to rub the stress and tension away. "I don't think I can take anymore of this right now."_

_  
"Oh-ho?" Jack slowly turns his head towards Maeve, glaring at her with icy eyes. "Listen up, sweetheart. You have absolutely no idea what they're going to do to me down there. No. Idea."_

_  
"Well that's because you won't tell me what's going on!" She walks around the couch to stand directly in front of Jack, her hands planted firmly on her hips. "All I know is that for some reason Arkham insists on having a meeting with you, and you won't tell me why. I know that you know why they've contacted you, but you're being just as vague as that letter."_

_  
Little by little, Jack begins to grow more fidgety, his fingers twisting and pulling on the fabric of his shirt. His dark eyes swirl with fury as he continues to stare at Maeve. "I'm telling you now, _darling_" he says through clenched teeth, "Just drop it now, or else."_

_  
Maeve scoffs at Jack, and steps closer to him. She knew Jack would never physically hurt her on purpose, so she has no problem challenging him. "Ha! You're threatening me now, are you? Come on, Jack. I dare you, hit me with your best shot."_

_  
Slowly, Jack lifts himself from the couch, his expression still murderous. Grabbing Maeve's arms roughly, he leans in close, delicately whispering in her ear. "Uh, honey? You need to learn when to, a-ha, shut your mouth."_

_  
And before Maeve knew what was happening next, Jack slams his fist into Maeve's face and throws her down hard onto the __glass coffee table__ that was behind her. She lands head first onto the glass, causing the table top to shatter. Jack peers at her bloodied, unconscious form, with no emotion for what he had just done visible anywhere on his face.  
"And, uh, Maeve? I've thought about what you said, and I suppose you're right. After all, I shouldn't keep the good people at Arkham waiting on me, now can I?"_

* * *

Softly clicking open, the door to Dr. Markinson's office swings wide with a gentleman walking through. He wears a crisp black suit, his hair combed back neatly, and sharp rimmed glasses framing his youthful face. His steps falter when he sees Jack angled back in his chair, snoring softly with his feet propped on the expensive desk. His expression remains emotionless as he makes his way over to Jack, quickly examining him. Softly he clears his throat in an attempt to waken his sleeping patient, but to no avail. Slightly rolling his eyes to himself, the young doctor moves to the other side of the desk and begins to unload different documents and several folders onto the desk as if Jack isn't even there. He swivels around in his leather seat to look through the bookshelf behind him. Across each thick spine of the old books his thin forefinger slides, stopping on the hardback of his choice. Despite the heaviness of the thick book, he lifts it from its shelf with ease and swivels back to face the still sleeping form of Jack again. Only now do his cold blue eyes really acknowledge Jack's presence. Still keeping his eyes on Jack, he grips the book tightly with both hands, lifts it in the air, and drops the book, causing it to slam hard on the desktop. Jack suddenly jerks awake, almost falling out of the chair, and he wildly looks around for the source of the thunderous noise. He then sees the man sitting across from him with his hands folded neatly on the desk. Jack laughs a little realizing what happened, and straightens himself back up in his seat.

"Hah, ya know, a sweet little 'good morning' would have sufficed." Jack grins to himself, amused with his little joke.

The doctor frigidly stares back. Motioning lightly with his hand towards Jack's feet still propped on top of the desk, he says, "I'd appreciate it if you'd take your disgusting shoes off of the desk."

Still smiling, Jack carelessly shrugs and lifts his feet from the desk and drops them to the floor.  
"Happy now, Doc?"

"My name is Jonathan Crane, but you are only to call me Dr. Crane. Is that clear?"

Jack slightly tilts his head, examining Dr. Crane. "You're not Dr. Markinson," he amusedly states in an aloof manner.

"How very astute of you, Mr. Napier." Dr. Crane begins to flip through a folder on his desk, quickly examining the papers inside. In a rather bored tone, he explains to Jack, "Dr. Markinson has fallen ill. I've been an intern here at Arkham for quite some time now until just recently I've been promoted. With my new position on the staff, I have been asked to take over for Dr. Markinson until he … recovers." He lifts his eyes to Jack once he finds what he needs, and leans back into his chair. "I want you to know," he continues in a low, monotonous voice, "that this is not something I would have volunteered for, but I have been encouraged to do so by my superiors. I do not enjoy listening to dismal dolts rambling on about their hopeless lives, nor do I inconvenience myself by pretending that I care. I am only here not to help you with your problem, but to make sure I receive the next promotion I deserve so I can begin my research on what is truly intriguing to me."

"Well, aren't you fun. Do you have any comment cards so I can leave a wonderful review for ya?"

Dr. Crane abruptly leans forward on the desk, his expression scrutinizing.

"Do you know why you're here, Mr. Napier?"

Jack sarcastically smirks at the doctor. "What? Don't you know, Doc?"

"Of course I know, _Jack_, but I'm just curious as to what your theory may possibly be."

Jack leans back in his chair, enjoying this little game. "Well, I can only assume one thing since the letter that was sent to me was mostly bare in the information department. My father; I don't remember much about him except that he's a crazy looney toon and was sent here a long, long, long time ago. I can only guess that something's happened, and you need my consent for whatever the case may be. So if it's my permission you're looking for to fry him or anything like that, just give me the paper work and I'll happily sign away."

Dr. Jonathan Crane gives Jack a slight uncharacteristic smile, clearly amused with Jack's hypothesis.  
"As touching as that last statement was, I'm going to have to break the devastating, I'm sure, news. You were right about something happening to your father here. About two weeks ago he was found in his cell dead, with a bloodied Bible in his hand. I was told that he had stolen a knife from the kitchens and carved scriptures all over his body, consequently leading him to bleed to death." Dr. Crane pauses to examine Jack's reaction, but Jack is just as aloof and unsympathetic as he is.

"Well? Does this not stir a reaction in you, Mr. Napier?"

"Plastic or metal?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Did he carve himself with a plasti-c or me-t-al knife?" Jack repeats slowly.

"…Plastic."

"Huh. Well that was a lovely story, Doc, but what is the point of me being here if he's already dead?"

"Do you know about your family's mental health history, Mr. Napier?"

* * *

Little pieces of glass clink into a garbage bin, followed by several bloody paper towels and bandages. Sighing miserably to herself, Maeve lifts herself out of her crouched position and starts to sweep up all of the left over pieces of glass that are too small to pick up by hand. Even after the hour or so that Maeve had been cleaning around the tiny apartment after she awoke in agony on the floor, the place is still trashed with broken pieces of the table. Walking to the kitchen for some aspirin for her current migraine, she catches her reflection in a mirror. Across the side of her forehead and down to her jaw lay a huge gash still bleeding. Her eyes are swollen and by the looks of it are starting to bruise. All over her face, neck, and arms are tiny cuts and scrapes from the broken glass. A solemn tear rolls down her bruised cheek to her trembling swollen lips. Not being able to look at the damage anymore, she sinks to the floor and cradles herself as she weeps in her bandaged arms.

* * *

"I'm no-t craz-y."

"Quite the theory, but let's examine the facts, shall we?"

Dr. Crane slides a thick manila folder towards Jack and then leans back into his chair, observing. Flipping it open, Jack immediately finds a document with his name, followed by his fathers and grandfathers. His eyebrows jump up in surprise but quickly furrow together the more he reads. The names of several different family members continue down the page dating far back into the nineteenth century.

"Intriguing, isn't it?"

Jack's head whips up at the sound of Dr. Crane's soft voice.

"Who knew that insanity runs so deep in your family?"

"It doesn't."

"Oh no? Why don't you take another look at that medical report, then? Your grandfather, he was a minor case; nothing too dangerous to have been worried about. I suppose he was just more considered as a village idiot back in his day. Your father, however, he decided to act more violently."

Jacks eyes narrow and his lips form a tight line. Dr. Crane takes note of this, but conceals his pleasure in Jack's reactions. His voice drops down an octave as he almost whispers to Jack.

"Your father would beat your mother. He'd beat you too, laughing while doing so, I heard. He used to be a cop, did he not? Seems like he'd take out his frustration on the family. He even threatened you at gunpoint every so often, and when your mother would hide his gun, he'd use your kitchen knives instead."

Jack's eye begins to twitch.

"And then one day he just snapped, did he not? Shot his partner at work, then the family he was supposed to be protecting at the time, but not before raping the wife. Then he tries to do the same to his own wife and son, and almost succeeds until he gets carted away by the police and the Arkham institutions guards."

The grip on Jack's chair tightens. "Shut up."

Dr. Crane continues on as if Jack hadn't spoken. "The report says that he gladly gave himself up. Said that he was _elated _to finally get away."

"Just. Shut. Up."

"And now we come to you, Jack. The product of decades of insanity, lunacy, and madness. I've examined your report, and at present it is very blank in any suspicious activity. But do you want my diagnosis? I think that you're going to snap, too. Any day, now."

Jack jumps from his seat and lunges towards the doctor. Crane, having been expecting this sort of outburst, is out of his seat before Jack and he slams the thick textbook across the side of Jack's face. Jack stumbles back, almost falling, but the astonishingly fierce grip of Dr. Crane steadies him. Then, a sharp pain catches Jack by surprise. He looks down to see a syringe protruding from his forearm, with Jonathan Crane pushing the lever of the syringe, sending a strange pale yellow serum deep into his veins.

"Let's calm down, now, Mr. Napier," Dr. Crane grunts as he pushes the now woozy Jack back into his chair. The room seems to spin in Jack's eyes, and he can feel his heart rate increase, his adrenaline pumping.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Napier? Are you feeling anxious, apprehensive…fearful?"

"Go to hell!" Jack slurs.

"Now, now. Lets remain civil, Mr. Napier. Seeing this little outburst, it only confirms my theory even more."

"I'm not going crazy!" Jack yells in Crane's face.

"Ah, but you already are!" Dr. Crane's icy blue eyes seem to dance in excitement. "You can't defy the facts, Mr. Napier. The signs of insanity are this." He holds up his forefinger. "One. Previous history of mental illness. You certainly have an abundance of that." Second finger. "Two. A history with drug or alcohol abuse. I think it's safe to say you enjoy a few drinks every now and then, don't you?" A third. "Three. Aggression and extreme mood swings. Well, that's a bit obvious, don't you think?"

Jack slumps forward in his seat, his head lolling to the side. Again, Dr. Crane forces Jack into a regular sitting position. Making sure Jack was still conscious and paying attention, he then continues. "The rest include symptoms such as memory loss, suspicious thoughts of conspiracy, and delusions. Have you experienced any of that?" The false concern seeps through Dr. Crane's voice.

"No," Jack manages through his clenched teeth.

"No, I didn't think so. You're not that far along yet."

Saliva seeps from the corner of Jack's mouth, and he struggles to wipe it away. He finds, however, that his limbs seem immobile.

"What did you do to me?!"

"Oh, that. It's a serum I've been working with. You're actually the first individual I've tried it on, and the results are quite interesting yet slightly disappointing." Jonathon Crane saunters back over to his desk and presses a tiny red button that is underneath the table top. "What it has done to you is slightly paralyze your muscles, while still keeping you coherent enough to understand me and speak sufficiently. Not quite the results I was anticipating, though…"

Dr. Crane is cut off when the stout nurse from earlier in the day walks in through the door. Her eyes roam over Jack, then to the empty syringe on the floor. "Is there something you need me for, Dr. Crane?"

"Yes. As you can see, I had to sedate my patient due to an unexpected and violent outburst. If you would, please escort him out and make sure he fully recovers before sending him home.

"Yes, sir." The tiny woman, with great difficulty, manages to have Jack stand on his unsteady feet before pushing him into a wheelchair she had brought with her. Before she pushes Jack out the door, Dr. Crane places his hand on the wheelchair, stopping it for a moment. He leans in close to Jacks face, again assuming the false, kind tone of voice.

"Same time, next week, then?"


End file.
